The Grove(15)
She winced at that. She could easily envision his words. “That would be bad. We haven’t the Portals to cause dangers, like what happened here . . . but that would still be bad.”
“Yes, I was told it was the far-ranging damage of the previous Shattering that destroyed the Portals you had opened to Aiar, and rendered your Grove inhospitable. I’m sure you can see my concerns about not wanting to involve your Patriarch, who is of a similar mindset to your king, politically,” he added. “That sort of damage, and its underlying conflicts, must not happen again.”
Grimacing, Saleria nodded reluctantly. “This was once a beautiful garden, open to all, and safe for all, with normal plants and normal animals within its sacred walls. The physical ability to cross from here to the heart of Aiar was shut down, yes . . . but the Keeper of the day still chose to show images from the Convocation while it was happening, and the Portal frames imploded. My predecessor thought we were lucky to have no physical damage, but what did happen was worse in its own way.”
“My condolences, but you can see our concern. Your people’s holy advocate must be someone who focuses on the true needs of your people, and who will not be swayed or led astray into conflict by political ambitions,” he said. “We have asked many Katani citizens in the last two weeks who they thought would be a true representative and advocate. By all accounts, your very job is to focus your holy efforts and energies upon the needs of your people, and you have done it well. Your lack of knowledge about other lands speaks highly of your lack of interest in interkingdom politics—an asset in this case, and not a detriment,” Aradin pointed out. “I am therefore here to ask you if you would be willing to represent the people of Katan at the next Convocation, when Kata and Jinga are Named and made manifest along with all the other Goddesses and Gods of the world.”
“I . . .” The very idea was absurd, impossible . . . yet very much in line with what she normally did. On the one hand, it was flattering to know she held the apparent trust of her people, to have sent this man her way. On the other hand, any rival kingdom would be located somewhere away from the continent, and that would mean weeks, maybe months of travel. Therein lay the stumbling block to accepting his request, however enticing the thought of standing before her God and Goddess in person might be. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t possibly leave the Grove unattended for a single day, let alone the months such a trip would surely entail. Even to travel to Aiar, which is due north, requires a calm summer voyage of two weeks, since one has to navigate the Sun’s Belt reefs . . .”
Aradin held up his hand. “The journey would not take nearly so long as you’d think. My fellow Witches and I are under orders to cooperate fully with escorting all carefully selected advocates from their homelands to the site of the Convocation. We have a way to make the trip almost as short as a trip through one of the ancient Portals . . . though it is not one we commonly use, nor do we normally speak of it, because it is not a pleasant method of travel.”
“But if it is like the old Portals, surely that’s worth any discomfort?” Saleria asked. She might have been ignorant of far-distant lands, but she wasn’t ignorant of the implications. “If you Witch-priests can make such travel possible, you could each make a fortune serving to assist in worldwide commerce and travel!”
“Aside from the fact that it would force most of my Brother and Sister Priests to abandon their normal works in tending to our people . . . Teral tells me the transition feels very much like dying,” Aradin confessed. He knew such a thing might put her off, but he wasn’t going to lie about it. “I’ll remind you he is deceased. He knows well of what he speaks.”
“That doesn’t sound pleasant, no,” Saleria admitted, wincing a little at Aradin’s warning. “But the old records spoke of the Convocation taking weeks, even a month. I still couldn’t spare that much time from my duties.”
“Not unless you had an assistant,” Aradin pointed out. “If you did, then they could stay to tend the Grove, and you could go to present the needs of your people. Do you not already deal every day in petitions from your people on the things they wish your Patron Deities to handle? The more I learn of your position and what it entails, the more well-suited you seem for this task.”
She shook her head. “The higher-ups won’t send anyone to me, and if I insisted vehemently that I needed one, all those politics you want to avoid would undoubtedly get involved. I can see why you’d want to pick me, and I am flattered, as I neither know nor care about any rivals to the Empire. That’s for King and Council to worry about. But I will not abandon my post.”